


You're All my Reasons

by QueenKatelynTheAristocrat



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of self-harm (none occurs), Pre-Slash, Reality Fic, References to Depression, References to past trauma, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenKatelynTheAristocrat/pseuds/QueenKatelynTheAristocrat
Summary: "Phil wished he could think of the right thing to say. It would be nice if at times like this his English Language degree knowledge would kick in and provide him with the words to make Dan understand that he could tell Phil anything, that there was nothing he could say that would scare Phil away, but alas."In which Dan's depression doesn't allow him to leave his room for two days, and Phil struggles to find the words, but what comes to realize is that maybe words aren't always necessary.Just a bit of hurt/comfort fluff to get you through your day.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 119





	You're All my Reasons

Dan hadn’t left his room in two days. The first morning, Phil didn’t think anything of it. It’s not like Dan usually gets up before 11:00 a.m. unless he has some particular reason to, and that day he didn’t, so when Phil wandered into the kitchen for his morning coffee at 9:30, he didn’t expect to see his best friend for at least a few hours. 

Once it was quickly approaching 3:00 -- and Phil had already given up on Dan making an appearance that morning and had edited their most recent Dan and Phil Games video by himself, as well as made himself lunch -- Phil started realizing that something might be wrong. 

This happened sometimes. Sometimes Dan would spend the entire day in bed, and nothing Phil did could convince him to leave. It was something Phil accepted, though. Sometimes his best friend’s depression decided to show up full force, and when that happened, Dan said, the world lost all its color and nothing seemed worth doing. Getting out of bed just took too much energy. 

Phil didn’t like it, but he thanked God that this only happened sometimes and not every day. Dan would emerge when he was ready, Phil thought around 7:00 pm that first night, when he ran out of snacks in his room and got hungry, or when he eventually decided to take a shower. 

And then Phil would be able to grab him and lead him to the couch, even if all he could get him to do was sit curled up on one end of it watching anime or absently observing as Phil played some video game. At least that way Phil could keep an eye on him. 

But Dan didn’t reappear that night, even though Phil stayed up until 3:00 in the morning waiting for him. Eventually Phil fell asleep on the sofa and if Dan left his room to grab food or go to the bathroom, he left Phil asleep when he did. 

When Phil woke up around 10:30 on the second day and crept over to Dan’s room and found the door still locked, that’s when he started to get worried. A day and a half of one of Dan’s episodes was uncommon, but not unheard of. Sometimes the grayness took longer to go away, the stupor took longer to shake off, Dan had said. 

“Why do you think that is?” Phil had asked, faux-casually. 

Dan had just snorted and said, “Well, if I knew how it worked, I could control it, now couldn’t I?” 

The conversation had ended there. 

Everytime Phil tried to talk about it, he was met with the same brick wall of resistance. He knew the sarcasm was just Dan’s way of coping, just his way of getting out of talking about things that made him uncomfortable, so Phil never took it personally. He just wasn’t exactly sure if it was his place to force the conversation, or even how to go about it if he were going to. 

On one hand, Dan deserved his privacy, and if he didn’t want to discuss it, he shouldn’t have to. But on the other hand, Phil worried about him sometimes. Nearly all the time, now that he thought about it. 

Phil had heard a lot of the awful stories about Dan’s childhood. Some of them had been told right after they met, when Dan was vulnerable in the dark and more willing to share, or over Skype where everything seemed a little bit less real. Some had been shared during drunken evenings alone in their apartment, when Dan had used the alcohol as an excuse to be a little less protective of his secrets. 

But some of them had been shared on regular days, nights, whenever. When Dan had looked a little bit off and Phil had asked what’s wrong and Dan had given him a straight answer instead of sarcasm for once. 

So Phil knew it was possible to get Dan to share without extenuating circumstances, but it was one thing to talk about the past: that was over and done with. It was another thing entirely to talk about the present. 

That was something Dan had never liked to do, to talk about how his past trauma was still affecting him  _ right now.  _

“The past is a different country,” Dan liked to say, in his best sarcastic I’m-quoting-something-right-now voice. 

In the past, Phil had just kind of accepted it. But it had never sat quite right with him. After all, even if the past was a different country, didn’t immigrants always carry with them some piece of their homeland? And if Dan’s homeland was misery, didn’t a piece of it still live inside him? 

Phil wished he could think of the right thing to say. It would be nice if at times like this his English Language degree knowledge would kick in and provide him with the words to make Dan understand that he could tell Phil anything, that there was nothing he could say that would scare Phil away, but alas. 

He could improv a thousand hilarious videos without a script, but the moment he tried to find the words to let his best friend know that he cared, the words deserted him. 

By the time the second day had come and gone, Phil was reduced to a pacing, anxious mess. What if Dan hurt himself? He had told Phil he hadn’t had thoughts like that in several years, but what if they came back? 

“I have so much to live for now. So many reasons to carry on.” Dan had said with a soft smile last time Phil had voiced his concerns that Dan’s depression might take him to a place where thoughts like that, thoughts of self-harm, threatened to take Dan to a place where Phil couldn’t follow. 

But there had been something sad in his eyes when he’d said those words. It had been late at night, and they’d been out on a balcony at some party for Youtubers, and Dan hadn’t been truly there all day. No one else had noticed. But Phil wasn’t just anyone. 

They had been watching the nighttime London Traffic rush past, leaning against the railing of the open-air balcony, and Phil had felt so mortal, and so aware of Dan’s mortality. They were so small, and the world was so big, and the air was chilly in November. 

After he’d said that, Dan had turned his eyes back to the scenery, but Phil had kept looking at Dan. He had loved Dan so much in that moment, that it took his breath away more than London ever could. His best friend, his soulmate, his partner through life. His other half. How could he ever live without him? 

Phil had sidestepped closer to Dan and pressed their arms together. And with a single glance behind him to make sure no one was watching that they didn’t trust, he rested his head on Dan’s shoulder. 

“I hope I’m one of them.” Phil had said, tentatively. 

Dan had just smiled again, that almost sadness still in his eyes. “Not just one of them. You’re all of them.” 

Phil had stayed quiet for a minute. Then he’d said, in a voice no one but Dan had ever heard, “You’re all of them for me, too, you know.” 

Dan had just pressed even closer to Phil’s side. There were no words for what they were to each other, no words to describe their kind of bond. They had saved each other, so many times. And it was true, so incredibly true, that when Phil thought of all the reasons he had for staying alive, for putting in effort every day, Dan was a part of all of them. 

But now what Phil needed was words. He sat outside of Dan’s room, leaning against the wall opposite the door, knees pulled up to his chest at 4:00 in the morning on what was technically the third day. He was fully certain that Dan had been waiting until he knew Phil would be asleep to use the bathroom and grab more food, so Phil had decided the only thing for it was to stage a stake out. 

But he still didn’t know what he was going to say when Dan’s door finally opened. He didn’t know how to make Dan feel better, to make him know that Phil was there, whenever he wanted to talk or just sit in silence or whatever. He didn’t have to do this alone. 

When another half hour had passed and Dan still hadn’t made an appearance, Phil decided that he was done just sitting here in desperation. If he wanted to get through to Dan -- who was now on the longest depressive streak since Phil had moved in with him -- he needed to be proactive about it. Without letting himself overthink it, he walked up to Dan’s door and knocked. 

Silence. 

He knocked again. “Dan?” 

Silence. 

This clearly was not going to work. 

Phil considered for a moment. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if it would be too invasive. How would he feel if he were in Dan’s place and Dan just burst into his room without permission? 

But, then again, it had been more than  _ 48 hours  _ and Phil was genuinely worried about Dan’s safety at this point. What would be worse, Dan yelling at him for barging in or Dan needing him and Phil not being there? 

Phil knew he would never forgive himself for the latter. He went to the kitchen to find a screwdriver. 

The doors on their apartment still had old locks. The kind that were so easy to pick that calling them locks was almost a joke. All Phil had to do was force the smallest screwdriver they had into the mechanism and  _ click! _ He was in. 

Now, how to make an entrance without getting unceremoniously kicked back out. 

Phil opened the door cautiously, just enough that he could creep inside. The lights were out, and the curtains were closed. It would have been pitch black inside if not for Dan’s night light, which produced a soft glow that illuminated the room just enough for Phil to navigate it. 

Dan wasn’t asleep. Phil could tell right away. He was pretending to be, though, or else he was just so out of it that he didn’t care what happened around him at this point. 

Phil really hoped for the former. 

He approached slowly, as if Dan was a wild animal he risked scaring off. 

“Dan?” he asked again, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Silence. 

“I know you’re not sleeping. I can tell.” Phil said, softly. 

“What do you want.” Dan asked, without opening his eyes. Finally, words. 

“It’s been three days.” Phil said, voice carefully neutral. 

“Yeah.” Dan agreed, not sounding particularly concerned about that fact. 

Phil didn’t know what to say next. After weighing it carefully in his head for a second, he decided to sit on the edge of the bed. He just looked at Dan’s non-sleeping face for a second, then, slowly, so that Dan could reject the touch if he wanted to, he reached out and stroked Dan’s hair back off his face. 

“Have you eaten anything?” 

“Kind of.” Dan replied. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“Snacks and stuff.” 

At least he hadn’t been starving himself. 

“I’m worried about you.” Phil said, pulling his legs up onto the bed and facing Dan. 

“Oh. Sorry I made you worry.” Dan said, the first bit of emotion appearing in his voice. 

“God, Dan, don’t be sorry.” Phil said, and Dan must’ve heard something in his voice that said Phil was about to cry, because he opened his eyes. Phil couldn’t have told you how grateful he was at that moment to see that distinct shade of brown. 

“There’s no need to cry. I’m fine.” Dan said, eyebrows pulled together. 

“But you’re not fine. It’s been three days, and you’re not fine.” Phil tried to pull himself together. He was supposed to be making sure  _ Dan  _ was alright, not forcing Dan to comfort  _ him. _

“It’ll go away soon. And when it goes away I’ll be better. Don’t worry.” Dan replied, voice just the tiniest bit more animated. 

“I wish I could make it go away for you.” Phil said, and he was shocked to see Dan smile just the smallest bit. 

“You’re the only reason it does.” Dan said, and Phil remembered that day on the balcony and how it had felt to be on top of the world. Like he was about to fall, but he didn’t really mind. 

“What can I do?” Phil asked, even though he knew it was in vain. Dan had told him a million times that there was no way to speed these episodes up. They ended when they ended. 

That’s why he was surprised when Dan said, “You don’t have to do anything but exist.” 

He’d never said that before. That was a new response. And something about the tone of it told Phil that it was truth, plain and simple. He could always tell when Dan was lying to make him feel better. 

“Can I stay?” Phil asked. 

Silence. 

But then, “Why? I can’t imagine watching me lay here is all that interesting.” 

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.” Phil said, heartbroken that Dan had even had to ask. 

“I’m always alone. We’re all alone in our heads.” Dan said. 

“I wish I could crawl in and keep you company.” Phil said, unable to deny the truth of that statement. 

“You wouldn’t want to. My brain isn’t the most pleasant of places.” 

“Oh yes I would. I can handle a little unpleasantness.” Phil said, with conviction. He didn’t just mean the theoretical situation they were discussing. 

“You sure about that?” Dan asked. 

“Two hundred percent.” Phi replied. 

“That’s not a real number.” 

“I don’t care. It describes how I feel.” 

Dan almost laughed at that, and Phil felt very proud. 

“Can I stay?” Phil asked again. 

Silence. 

But then, “If you really want to.” 

“I do.” Phil said, then slowly he stood up, Dan tracking his movements with his eyes, and pulled back the blankets just enough to slide in beside Dan. He felt the warmth radiating from his body, and it reminded him that Dan was alive. 

“I haven’t showered in like. Two days.” Dan said. 

“I don’t really care.” Phil said, and they were looking directly into each others’ eyes, the way they used to when they were young and drunk on the feeling of finding each other at last, still amazed by the fact that each other was real. 

Phil was still amazed by the fact that Dan was real. 

And then they were scooting closer together, and Dan was burying his face in Phil’s neck, and Phil was stroking his hair. 

It was all curly and messy, and Phil was oddly pleased by that fact. Dan really was warm. Phil was entirely sure he radiated enough warmth for two people. 

Phil could easily stay there forever. Or at least until Dan was feeling better. 

“Thank you for being all the reasons.” Dan said, after a good amount of time had passed. 

“Thank you for being mine.” Phil said back. 

And that was when he realized. He didn’t need the perfect words to let Dan know how much he cared, how much he loved him, how he would be there every time he needed him. 

This moment, curled up together, hidden away from the rest of the world, their souls slowly quieting in each others’ presence, spoke louder than words ever could. Their actions were a language more powerful than any in the world. 

Maybe to others who weren’t a part of their bond, a part of their world, this language wouldn’t make any sense. Someone else looking in wouldn’t get the message. Wouldn’t be able to crack the code of gentle touches and steadfast presence. 

But Phil was sure that Dan understood. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments make my day! <3


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